Turning Back
by prettylittlepetticoats
Summary: It was an impossible idea born from pain, and yet, somehow the impossible became a reality. Now they are back, they have a chance to change things, to forge a path into the future that was better than before, to forge a world that was better than before. But with turning back the clock comes consequences they hadn't even considered. {timetravel}
1. one

**authorsnote:** so I have been knocking around with this idea for _a while_ , I wanted this pairing, with a twist to the story, and to try something I haven't seen done a whole lot. I'll discuss more about my motivation in the end note. This is an idea I've kind of put out there, and if people enjoy it/I get a good response I'll be taking it forward, I already have 10+ chapters mapped out, so i'm ready to go! please let me know what you think, and if you did enjoy please follow/fav, I would seriously love to hear everyones thoughts.

 **songrecommendations:** leave the light on - tom walker

* * *

if you look into the distance,

theres a house upon the hill,

guiding like a lighthouse,

it's a place where you'll be safe to feel our grace

...

"This will work"

Famous last words one might say. When was the last time anyone had said, those words preceding something that _actually_ worked? When was the last time those words had ended in jubilation and success? Not despair and misery? When was the last time he had said those words only to be met with disappointment?

It had been her idea, as most of their plans were. Jon was no fool, he was good at killing, he was good at war, at strategy and tactics, he was good at leading men into battle and duelling with opponents. But she was the politician, she was the one to plan and map out their future, she was the one to always see the best way forward and execute their plans. He happily deferred to her on those matters, and in all fairness, it had worked out for them both so far ... which begged the question as to why they were doing this, if everything had worked or ... why were they trying this? Why fix something that seemingly wasn't broken?

Yet it was for so many reasons, so many reasons they had communicated to one another. It had all started one night, about two months ago, when they had been sat in front of the fire, bowls of soup warm in their hands; just as it had been when they had reunited. She had his cloak around her shoulders and was snuggled into it, winter was biting, even for them, and the fire had provided little relief. And so, they had snuggled close together, warming one another, her breath warm on his neck, his fingers dancing over her shoulder, and spoke of times long gone, as they often did.

She had spoke of their time as children, when she had snuck into the kitchen to steal lemon cakes and Uncle had caught her with a barely contained smile. He had spoke of their time as teenagers, sparring with Robb and running around with Bran. She had spoke fondly of the rare times she and Arya had gotten along, he had spoken of when Rickon had been born and they had all promised to protect the youngest of the pack. So many memories, so many beautiful memories they reminisced upon time and time again. They had spoken of finding the Direwolfs, of Lady and Ghost, the latter curled at their feet, the former long gone. After that the nostalgia had come to a pause; it seemed everything after that day had gone wrong. Everything after the King had come to Winterfell had ended in utter misery, and there had been no turning back from that point on, a point that had almost defined the Stark family, in scattering the pack for good.

"I wish we could go back" She had said gently, tears biting at her eyes then, he could see the sapphire orbs glisten, and if he was the kind to cry he would have been right there with her, only he hadn't cried in years, he could still feel her sorrow, as it was his own too.

"Me too" He had responded before putting his arm around her and placing a kiss to her forehead. They had held onto one another tightly for a few moments, before she had spoke, her tears suddenly gone, and instead the look of passionate belief in her eyes that quite frankly unsettled him appeared. The look that often preceded some scheme of hers, a look he had long become used to and yet still made him feel uneasy.

"What if we could go back?" She had said, her entire face alight then, a look of sheer hope on her face that he had not seen in a very, _very_ long time. His own expression had been wary, confused ... what was she talking about?

"Sansa, what do you...?" He had started the question but then she had stood in a whirl to her feet, his cloak dropping to the floor, leaving her in only her white nightgown, but she either hadn't felt the cold or managed to ignore it... how he was unsure, but he did know Sansa, he knew when she set her mind to something she was a force to be reckoned with, and wouldn't be stopped, no matter the circumstance. Often he didn't argue with her on such points, but now? He frankly had no idea what to say, or what she was getting at.

"Jon, after everything we've seen, everything we've faced?" It was then he twigged where she was going with this, and he too stood to his feet to take her hands in his, to stop her getting carried away with herself, to try and calm her from this ludicrous thought she'd concocted. He could understand it, of course he could, but it didn't make it any less unlikely. "Are you telling me this isn't possible?!"

"Sansa" He had heard the condescending tone to his voice as he said it and had winced at the sound, "Some things are out of our reach, some things ... they just can't be done" To their dismay, many things were out of reach for them.

"But can you tell me Jon, can you tell me point blank this can't be done? After everything we've seen? Dead mean rising? You coming back from the dead? Giants and the Children and all manner of creatures?! And you're saying this is out of reach?" She had asked, her face almost crazed, and yet he knew why ... what she was asking to be done, it was something they had dreamed about, something that if could be accomplished would be worth _every_ sacrifice to do so. He too had felt a flare of hope, but as an eternal pessimist had been too unsure to display it or even let it grow.

"No but Sansa ... it sounds impossible, completely and utterly impossible" He had tried to be gentle, not wanting to upset her and yet having to remind of her reality.

And yet she had seemed unperturbed, not even slightly shaken by his words, "Sounds impossible Jon, not _is_ impossible" And then she had planted a kiss on his cheek before hurrying off. He had followed, grabbing his own cloak off the floor to take to her. The castle had been dead at that time of night so she needn't worry about anyone seeing her, but the cold was bad enough to sting. So he had followed her, to the library, where they had stayed all night researching, and had done so the next night and the night after. He wasn't sure how she'd convinced him, and yet he had become as committed as she.

For months, they had survived on minimal sleep, running their Kingdom during the day and then researching at night. Most nights they fell asleep in one another's arms but with books still strewn over their bed. They sifted through forgotten tombs and scrolls in High Valyrian (thankfully Jon was proficient enough), they wrote pages of notes and throughout it remained with the same attitude. Sansa with her continued hope, and Jon with his thinly veiled cynicism and yet sense of quiet hope himself. Initially Jon hadn't entertained the idea, and yet Sansa's eternal optimism had stuck with him, and each night though he convinced himself he was doing this for her, he too had become enthralled with the idea.

Now they had become transfixed on the idea they couldn't bare to let it go. And so the research had continued night after night, they shouldered the responsibilities of the day, and then at night dedicated themselves to their research. It was crazy, this had all come from an errant thought and yet they had dedicated themselves to it fully, as though this were their lives purpose. The idea of it, the hope was too much to give up on, even with each book producing nothing, and each plan down the drain, they continued to hope ... and then finally two months earlier Sansa had hit a thought.

"What if what we want isn't in a book?" Sansa had said aloud one night in the library, it had been a weary day at court, and Jon had near been falling asleep over an ancient Valyrian scroll on patterns of time, when Sansa had spoken and he had looked across at her. If anyone could rouse him from near slumber it was Sansa.

"What do you mean?" He had asked, his accent thick with tiredness. He had felt ready to drop, and yet though months of little sleep may have been catching up with him he wasn't ready to give up, not yet, not after they'd committed so much time. They had seen some promising accounts, and that drove them forward. With each night, they felt as though they were getting closer, and that kept them going, that kept them up each night researching, trying and hoping.

"What if we need to find someone who knows of this? Not rely on books?" She said, her face almost inquisitive in her idea. He too knew he looked puzzled for a moment - find someone? Who could possibly harness the power of what they wished to do? Who could possibly hold such celestial abilities?

He had felt his blood run almost cold then, as it always did when he thought of _her_ and what she had done for him. He would never regret what she did, he would never hold her in contempt for it, but he knew it hadn't been normal; he hadn't felt quite right since. Yes, he was himself, but not whole, never again; as though a part of him had been chiseled away when he had been pulled back from wherever he had been. It had been she who had done so, she who had returned him to this world from the place of darkness he had entered upon his death. And if she had been capable of that ... well could she be capable of what they hoped to achieve?

It wasn't out of the realm of possibilities, was it? And as soon as he had mentioned this to Sansa her eyes had lit up, renewed with a fresh hope that had been dwindling; as though they had never given up and had constantly felt as though they were getting closer ... it wasn't easy; each week passing without results. But then, this had been a new lead, a new way forward, and as soon as he suggested it she had set to work writing the raven scroll to the southern court, and an hour later the raven had flown; inviting the red witch to the northern court.

She had happily headed the call, and a month later they had laid out their proposal to her. His Hand had protested at her coming to their court but Jon, now at least competent at diplomacy had soothed his worries. And so, they had discussed with her for a while, laying out all possibilities. They had been uplifted that she had heard of such magic's, but could not perform them herself. It had been a start, it had been something, and that had triggered the next stage of their journey.

And that had led them here.

Weeks of consulting with those across the sea, weeks of securing items, of working everything out and finally they were here, in front of the ancient Weirwood tree of the Winterfell Godswood, dressed in black, everything in place.

It had seemed ludicrous now they were here and yet as they had joined hands, hers shaking and his steady they knew this was their shot, this was their chance. They had worked for the better part of a year towards this, the chance to change things, the chance to turn back the clock. And now they were here and she uttered those words.

"This will work"

And though he should have responded with something positive he couldn't help but blurt out the words he had been thinking for weeks, the thoughts that had been biting at the back of his mind since she had convinced him to start down this path. It had been annoying him for weeks on end, eating at him and yet he hadn't said a word, not wanting to upset her, but now? Now they were here, at the end of the journey? He couldn't hold back his thoughts.

"But should it?"

He watched as she but down on her lip, evidently she had thought the same and yet she spoke without any doubt, "This is what we've been working for, this is what we wanted, to turn back the clock"

"But what if we forget? What if we go back and we're not us anymore? We don't remember this future? She said ... it's a possibility, what if the possibility comes true?" He asked in almost a whisper, "What if you go back to looking at me with contempt? What if I go back to not speaking to you? What if ..." He paused then, his real worry that had been eating at him finally coming out, "What if you marry someone else?"

And then her face softened and she walked to him, still clutching his hand. She was within an inch of him, and her lips brushed against his for a mere moment, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, "That will not happen, we will remember, we will change things, that is why we are doing this. We will remember, we will change things" She paused then to give him a proper kiss, and he felt his worries melt away at both her words and her touch, "And I will always be yours"

"Always" He repeated back to her, and he felt a hint of a smile pull at her lips, and his expression mirrored hers. She waited, waited for him to nod, as he did, and then they turned back to the Weirwood tree, clutching each others hands so tightly they were almost one, it was time.

The hour struck midnight, and he was the one to pick up the device, to cut first his hand and then hers and run their blood over this device ... this device that had cost them far too much and yet not enough if it did as promised. He didn't wince at the cut on his hand, she did hers, and he wished to soothe her, but could not. Instead they joined both hands over the device, closed their eyes, and took a deep breath. This was it, this was the moment, as the minute struck midnight.

"Here we go" Her voice was gentle, and he nodded his head, opening his eyes to see if it had worked, if anything had changed. And yet he saw the same Sansa staring back at him, the same woman who'd become his wife just a year ago, and he almost sagged with disappointment. It hadn't worked. She too looked ready to cry, it had failed, this was it, and it had failed.

But then her expression changed to one of wonder, of horror, of both mixed together, and he saw why. The world around them was crumbling, as though made into ash, and falling apart. She dove into his arms and he pulled her close, shielding her from the site of their home, of the world falling apart. Did this mean it was working? As he dropped to his knees, still holding her close he wasn't sure, he could only close his eyes as the darkness that had consumed everything but them advanced on them. He hoped it had worked, it was all he could do hope, as he closed his eyes, and the darkness took them both.

* * *

so ... thoughts?

now, this idea was one born of wanting to do time travel, where those sent back would be aware of it, and wanting to find a way to justify it in this world whilst keeping it mysterious. so far we don't know how they were sent back, but yes I already know how they were and it will be found out later down the line, for now however it's a mystery!

so what do we think? hopefully you enjoy! as you can see this fic will very clearly be jon/sansa (don't even start with people saying its incest), but other pairings will be involved. this will be a dark fic, with more intertwined magic into the world of thrones, the future will change but not necessarily for the best, but you'll see that as we go along! hopefully you're onboard! we will also get flashbacks to the future jon and sansa are leaving behind, it will explain their relationship and what drove their desire to go back (because yes its more than reuniting the family), but we will focus mainly on the new future going forward, with how jon/sansa struggle to adjust to being young again, and how they can try and change the future!

if you enjoyed please let me know via reviews, they are like crack to me. please follow/fav if you want to stay updated, and please check out my other asoiaf fics! and i'll see you soon, honestly I'm so eager on this story I've already got chapter two written, and I'm halfway through chapter three :3

xoxo


	2. two

**authorsnote:** so I am overwhelmed with the response to the first chapter! thank you so much for all the interest shown! I wanted to get the second chapter up as soon as possible, and I hope you enjoy the speedy update, and the contents of it! but first, I need to clear up a few little tidbits about this story;

one: I am ageing up the characters, though we're doing a time reset to two weeks pre king's arrival in winterfell, I am ageing everyone up a little. sansa will be fourteen, jon sixteen, and the rest of the characters in accordance to those ages (I will clarify key ones in future chapters).

two: this fic is mostly book, however some elements of the show slip in, again i'll clarify per chapter.

three: this is rated m, because of violence/language themes coming up, not because it will contain excessive lemons. yes fourteen/sixteen is old enough to get down, but not too any crazy amount in this fic.

fourth (and finally): this is a jonsa fic. i've had one or two pm's asking me if thats set in stone, and yes it is. other pairings will be included, but firmly, the main pairing in this is jonsa - not to say they might not run into trouble .. but for that you'll have to stick around and see!

okay so thats everything key, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! please review/follow/fav - such things fuel me!

 **songrecommendations:** something just like this - coldplay

* * *

but she said, where'd you wanna go?

how much you wanna risk?

i'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts

some superhero ... some fairytail bliss,

just someone I can turn to,

somebody I can kiss

...

The darkness consumed all, every inch of their world, it didn't stop, it didn't hesitate, and it was the very last thing she saw before Jon pulled her to his chest to shield her from whatever they had bought forth. Even as she had closed her eyes against the unrelenting darkness, she had almost felt it around her, ripping everything away, turning it all to ash. Both fear and hope had consumed her at the same time, as the darkness consumed all around them. It was almost suffocating, and yet as afraid as she was, Sansa knew deep down it would be okay; she was with Jon, her husband; he would keep her safe, he would ensure she met no harm, she was sure of it.

It felt like hours passed, with the darkness surrounding them, but it was only minutes, it took only minutes for the world to fall in on itself, like a supernova collapsing at hyper speeds, for the little device they had sourced from the banks of Asshai to work its magic, to rip them out of this current existence, to send them back … as they had hoped and intended.

It had been a long journey, and yet Sansa had never lost hope, had never allowed the continual failures and setbacks ever break her spirit. She had known it would be possible, she had known it was something that could happen in this world so filled with magic. She had shaken off Jon's cynicism, had accept the sleeplessness nights, if it meant they could achieve what they had so hoped for. It had come with risks, and even she had almost felt cold feet at the end, but it was worth it, she was so sure it was worth it, if they could achieve what they had so hoped … well, it would be worth more than anything they would have to risk to get there. It would be worth everything they had to offer.

And as the darkness pooled around them, and she clutched Jon as tightly as her arms would allow, all she could hope, all she could think, all she could plead with the gods, was that it had worked.

* * *

As soon as she opened her eyes she knew it was different. She wasn't sure how it was different, and she was almost scared to look around to see, but she knew it was different.

For one it was warmer than it had been, she had left behind the harsh winter for a much warmer climate. Second, she knew she was inside, on a bed, a soft bed, but a smaller one, she lifted her hand to the side and felt out, and realised it was a single, not the double she was used to. She also felt different in herself, her body, her mind, and then it dawned on her … she remembered! When they had been preparing this, when they had been planning it, the uncertainty had always been there; the warlock from Asshai (who services they had paid a hefty price to use), had told them there was no guarantee that; one, it would work, and two, if it did they would remember the future they were so trying to leave. But she did remember! A smile broke out on her face, and her fear dissipated as she sat up in the bed, and then her smile only grew as she looked around.

She was in her old room, the place of her childhood that she had so missed over the years, the place she had dreamed about time and time again. It was her own bedroom, with her own things, her dolls from her Father on the dresser, a stack of books on the end table, her own blanket, her own clothes hanging in the wardrobe. It was all here! With shaking hands, she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the wardrobe mirror … it was the moment of truth.

As soon as she saw her own reflection she almost felt as though her knees would buckle. She was young once more. Not a day past her 14th nameday! A small squeak left her lips as she took in her appearance; a teenager once more. Part of her was saddened, that she had lost the body of a woman, that she had been reverted to the cusp of childhood … and yet, a bigger part of her was happy. Surely this meant one thing?! Surely this meant she had returned! Surely this meant their plan had worked?!

It was almost too much for her, the reality of it all, and she felt her knees buckle beneath her, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. Soon she was kneeling on the floor of her old room, of the place that represented a childhood she had foolishly abandoned. And she was crying, not out of pain, not out of sadness, but out of sheer joy. This was it, this is what they had been hoping for … and it had worked!

But then she realised, it hadn't just been her plan … what about Jon?! Fear flickered through her at an alarming speed, and her smile soon fell. What if he didn't remember? What if she was doomed to be back to where they had hoped for but only she knew of the future they had left behind? Her breathing came out in gasps then as the idea dawned on her, and she knew there was only one way to find out, only one way to find out if Jon … her Jon was lost to her … or to find out if it had all worked out perfectly, as they had so hoped.

With shaky leg's she stood herself up; she needed to get dressed, to go to Jon's room, by the armoury. Anger flared up in her then, as it had many times over the past months … and she recalled one of their more difficult conversations when prepared for this … transition.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

 _"Going back may be the right thing, the thing to reunite us all and change this future but Sansa …" Jon had paused then, as he often did when in deep through, his face tensing as the ideas in his mind washed over him. He had never been a good liar, far too honourable, far too much like his Uncle to ever be good at the game of deception, and Sansa had known, had known these thoughts had been weighing on him for a while. And so, she hadn't interrupted, hadn't tried to direct his thoughts, instead she had waited before he continued. "Your past was much rosier than mine"_

 _She had let out a small sigh then, before reaching across for his hand, taking it in hers, their golden rings glinting in the candlelight next to one another; simple bands, gold, with no etchings on his, but one small diamond on hers, bands they had exchanged whilst vowing their devotion to one another; Sansa had still smiled when she thought of that day, when she looked at the rings. "Jon, I know that, but we'll change things, we'll make it better. I will not let my Mother …" She had paused too then, anger washing over her. She had always loved her Mother, always would, but now? Now she viewed Catelyn Stark with a very different view than she had held when a child, "I will make things better for you, as you will for me"_

 _He had nodded then, letting it go, in that moment. That was the whole point of this endeavour, to change things, and Sansa would be damned if she allowed Jon to be mistreated. They had always promised to protect one another, and Sansa had made herself another promise then, sitting at that table, hands clasped, his cloak around her shoulders, another promise._

 _'I will make you happier' A simple promise, but one she had vowed to stand by … if their insane plan had ever panned out of course._

* * *

Present

* * *

But she would stand by that promise, she thought to herself as her mind reeled back to the present. They had known this journey would be challenging, changing so much, doing so much, and yet they had both agreed it would be worth it, like cutting off a limb to save the rest of the body, sometimes sacrifices had to be made, in order to achieve what one wanted.

Sansa yanked herself back to the present then, she needed to get to Jon, to see him, to see if he was in the same mind set as she was. Cold fear trickled down her back as she worried, as her anxiety threatened to wrap around her throat and choke her, like the cold chilling hands of winter. She couldn't help but be fearful, fearful that Jon … her dearest Jon, wouldn't remember what they had shared.

"Please Jon, please" She whispered to herself, as she stood in front of the mirror, her hands balled into fists at her sides, "Please remember"

"I could never forget"

Her heart stuttered as she heard those words whispered back to her, and she flew around to the door so fast she almost slipped. In the doorway stood Jon, her Jon; yes, he looked different, younger, his hair a little longer, his beard shorter, still muscular, but less so… and yet to her he looked perfect. She could see it in his eyes, the way he held himself; like a man grown, this was her Jon. He was here, she could feel it, and she near cried out in surprise again.

Instead a choked gasp left her lips, and her hands flew to her mouth, and the tears began again. It had worked! Everything they had hoped for had worked, and importantly it had all worked! They had returned, returned to the past to fix the mistakes that had been made, and yet they both remembered that future, that future that neither of them had wished to forget.

"Oh Jon" She whispered back, and then they were running at one another, he ruffled, having clearly hurried to dress, and she in her nightgown still, and yet neither cared. Neither cared as they crossed the distance of her room in seconds, and she threw herself into his arms, her arms winding around his neck, his clasping around her waist. A strangled sob left her lips, and she heard his gasp … that this was real, this had happened. They were home, and yet they were still together, it was everything they had dreamed of, everything they had hoped for. They had never truly dared hope it would all work out, and yet it evidently had, and Sansa could not stop more tears as she clutched at him, clutched at her beloved, so thankful, all anxiety gone, and only sheer joy in its place.

* * *

It took several minutes for her to let go of him, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he finally managed to place her on the bed and sit next to her. Even then she couldn't remain unconnected, her hand remained clasped in his, her legs thrown over his, touching, always touching, warmth lighting up both of them. She knew she was smiling like a maniac, as was he. They had never dared hope things would work out this well, and it showed on their faces; the surprise, and yet the utter happiness that it had.

"We did it" He said, lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, and she found herself giggling, out of pure happiness. "We did it Sansa" And she nodded then, clutching at him, still a little shocked, and yet none the less happy.

"We did" She replied back, and that set him off laughing, and her own giggles followed, both were on a high too elevated to be serious for a moment. It was Jon who bought them back down; serious Jon, who only ever showed her and a few select others his playful side, and yet even she knew, as happy as things were, they were in a serious situation.

They had travelled back in time.

She had never really thought it out loud before, never mind voiced it. They had travelled back, reversing all the years of pain and suffering they had both felt, for her; being a captive in King's Landing, escaping to the Vale, escaping again this time from Baelish, making her way to the Wall, the Wildlings, the White Walkers, the barely scraped victory, the loss, the suffering … for him; running to the Wall, the losses there, the Wilding's, the loss of his first love, the pain of betrayal, rising from the dead, and then the same barely scraped victory, and the loss and pain that followed. Now … none of them had come to be, they had reset the clock, and then Sansa realised … when was it?!

But evidently that had been the root of Jon's serious face, as she glanced at him, and both stood to look at the calendar hanging on the wall of her room. Thankfully, even as a child she'd been organised, and she saw … they had arrived at the right time; just two weeks before the arrival of the King. Everything had gone right! And yet as they backed up to the bed, and sat themselves down, Sansa knew, as ecstatic as she was, and as much as she wanted to bask in it; they would have time for that later, for now … well for now, they had much to figure out.

* * *

He couldn't quite believe it.

He had always been more cynical about this plan, mainly following it for Sansa's sake, never truly believing it would pan out. And yet it had … it truly had.

When he had awoken that morning, he had known where he was immediately. In truth, he had only taken a minute or two to mull it over, to accept this new reality, before panic had infiltrated his system, before he had realised that even though they had apparently achieved what they had hoped … there was one thing he wasn't sure on … Sansa.

He had hurried, pulling on clothes, a tunic, breeches, boots, his cloak, he had barely glanced at himself in the mirror, annoyed at his smaller frame, and more boyish looks, but that still hadn't been his focus. He had barely been able to realise Ghost was with him, as small as he could remember, before he had bolted out the door, ran across the yard, and made his way to Sansa's room. Because, yes, he was back, and that did fill him with joy, true joy, but he had known as he had hurried into Sansa's quarters … it would all mean nothing if his wife didn't remember him.

He hadn't felt luckier when they had embraced, clear as day to both of them that everything had worked out; even the timing! Evidently the gods had been smiling down on them, and Jon had barely been able to stop smiling himself; Sansa too, that beautiful smile in full force on her features, lighting her up from the inside to out. They had done it, truly done it, they had made it, and even though Jon was usually the more serious of the two, he had taken a moment just to pull Sansa into a hug, kiss her forehead, and hold her tight, before they were forced to part.

They had things to discuss.

And so, Jon had pulled himself out of the euphoria he had been feeling, just for a moment, and turned to Sansa, still smiling, but back to his usual look of seriousness, or at least trying (and likely failing, due to the fact the euphoria refused to go away), to get back on serious ground.

"You know we have a lot to figure out" He said with a nod, and yet her smile caught him off guard, her smiles were so rare from the future they had left, and yet here she couldn't stop. Of course, it was contagious, and he couldn't help but smile again too, smirking even as he continued to talk, "A lot to figure out" His smirk would not go, and soon her expression mirrored his, and then they were both laughing again, clutching one another once more.

They had much to discuss yes, but in that moment neither cared. This was a victory, and so Jon had happily pulled her onto the bed, tugged her into his arms, and held her close. Her head on his chest, his arms pulling her tight, his chin resting atop her head, holding one another close, as just for a moment, a small moment before they had to plan, and scheme and work things out, for a small moment they just allowed themselves to revel in this victory, to allow the happiness to consume them both, as they clung to one another for dear life.

* * *

An hour or so passed, and yet neither of them were inclined to move. He'd shifted to lie on his back, and her head rested on his chest, her finger stroking down the front of his tunic, his fingers playing with her hair, in a way he knew she both loved (because it felt so good), and hated (because it tangled her hair beyond recognition). Both were clearly completely content, and Jon felt happy to just remain in place, normally he was the serious one, the one to jump to his feet and face the problem at hand, but for now he felt far too happy, far too peaceful, and evidently so did his wife.

"Jon" Her voice was music to his ears, even if it was a little more childish. Both of them had reverted to a younger age, both had lost the hard touch of adulthood, and yet as annoying as it was to have reduced strength, and to feel more like a boy than a man again, Jon knew it was worth it, just another small sacrifice to get them here, the place they had dreamed of. "Jon"

"No" He muttered back, and her felt her shakes of laughter against his chest before he heard her giggles. He too was smiling, still stroking her hair, "I know what you're going to say" He said, "So, how about we skip the serious part for the moment?" He said with a grin, "And I know coming from me that's funny, so you know how much I mean it" He chuckled himself as he heard her giggling again, but knew they did have to have a serious talk, as she pulled herself up onto the bed, and he followed, resting an arm behind his head, his expression mock wounded, before smiling again as she rolled her eyes, and playfully slapped his leg.

"Aye alright then" He said, propping himself up, as she moved to sit beside him, her legs crossed, but her hands still holding his left hand between hers. He smiled again at that, at her touch, one of the few things that always made him smile.

"So" He knew, he would need to begin. As much as he loved Sansa, and knew she was a better liar than he, he was also the one more likely to think of every detail, every possibility, every outcome, and they needed that now. The place they had been striving to get back to was a dangerous one after all … they could give no indication that anything was different if they wanted to change things, they had agreed on that a long while ago, knowing there would be no way to explain what had happened to them, without a trip to Maester Luwin's to see if they'd knocked their heads. No, they would need to keep it a secret, and that meant they would need to act a certain way.

"So" He began again, but then he heard a scuffle at the door, and that had them jumping out of bed, their laziness and apathy disappeared. He knew he had a look of worry on his face, as did Sansa … they needed to give off the impression everything was the same, and he being here, in Sansa's room, her in her nightgown, he ruffled looking would not give that impression.

After all, during their childhood … at this age, the two had not been that close. She had looked down on him, Jon had known that, and he had mostly ignored her. They had not acted or been like siblings, and they couldn't change that now. Sure, they both knew things would change a little, and Sansa was determined that she would get her Mother to stop treating him poorly (though in truth he'd laughed at that, and asked her if she also planned to make him Lord of Winterfell before Robb … something she had not found funny), but overall they had to give the same view … for the time being.

"Hello?" Sansa called out, both of them stood, now fraught with tension, however as no one answered, Sansa slipped around to the door, and he watched her every step, stepping back into the shadows, as she yanked the door open.

And yet they needn't have worried, as Lady simply ran into the room, annoyed at being locked out of her mistresses' quarters. For Lady, it was a minor grievance, and yet Sansa near collapsed as her Direwolf (now very much alive), bounded into the room.

Jon rushed forward then, closing the door shut, and then hurrying to Sansa's side, ready to give comfort or support. But he was completely ignored, as Sansa wrapped her arms around (a now very confused) Lady, to hold her close, sobbing into her white and grey fur. Jon wasn't surprised in truth, Ghost had become enamoured with Sansa in the future they had left behind, and honestly though he had still been by Jon's side around the Castle, every night he had curled up at Sansa's feet. Yet, to see her reunited with her own Direwolf warmed something in him, and he smiled down at her.

It took several minutes of coaxing Sansa to release Lady, (who he had forgotten lived up to her name, and put with several minutes of Sansa crying over her, fussing over her and clutching her, only bounding off when Sansa released her, and only managing to look mildly annoyed), and get her sat back on the bed.

"Sorry" She said sheepishly, wiping at her tears, "But … god I missed her"

"I know" He responded with a smile, wiping away the tears she had missed, before smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear, in a way he knew she liked, "And don't apologise for it, but we need to have this talk, especially knowing who else we'll reunite with, and how we need to act"

She nodded then, "Okay, so no crying when we see the rest of the family, no excessive touching or kissing between us as my Mother's head might explode, and oh, make sure we don't say anything we wouldn't say" She rattled off, and Jon nodded, before continuing himself.

"Also, no cryptic hints at the future, and try to act as normal as possible" He said with a nod, and she too nodded to him back. He still smiled though, wiping away the last of her tears.

He knew this would be hard, they had both known this would be hard, and yet they had tried their best to prepare for it, in any way possible. They had recounted what they had been like in their younger years, they had gone over their old interests and hobbies. Jon had told Sansa she would need to act in a more innocent fashion, and Sansa had reminded him that he would need to be careful on the practice field, now having more combat knowledge than likely anyone in Winterfell. Jon had reminded Sansa she would need to be more snobby, and Sansa had told him to be more brooding. And yet, now confronted with the reality of it all, they both knew it would be hard.

"Okay" She said with a nod, "I should get dressed"

"And I should head back to my room and clean-up" He said, standing to his feet, and she followed his lead. He smiled at her though, turning back to stand in front of her. This was all they'd hoped for, and yet Jon knew it would be difficult, they had much to figure out, a lot of acting to do, and a difficult path forward … and yet it would all be worth it, they both knew, it would all be worth it.

"I love you, and I'll see you at breakfast" He said with a smile, before leaning down to place a kiss first on her forehead, then on each cheek, before finally on her lips.

"I love you too, see you at breakfast" She replied, mimicking his words with a smile as he moved out of the room, and closed the door behind him. This would be hard, and yet it would be worth it, they had both known it would be a tough journey, and yet they had both known; _it would be worth it._

* * *

so thoughts? love it? hate it? mildly dislike? please let me know via reviews!

I had to shift into writing it a little differently, not so much mystery (otherwise it's nigh on impossible to progress story), but hopefully you still enjoy! I'm really loving this fic, and can't stop writing it, so please let me know if you're enjoying it or I'm doing all this for naught!

either way I hope you enjoyed, I'll have another update soon, and yes don't worry - we'll see the rest of the stark's next chapter!

also never fear people who read my other fics - journey will be updated soon, I've almost finished full edits of a wolf among thorns, and i'm halfway through the next chapter of the ink is dry!

xoxo


	3. three

authorsnote: here we go! apologies for the delay in the update - I've been on holiday, sunning myself on a beach and turning pink! still, I'm back now and working hard to get everything updated. I wanted to post this update first, since I felt a true bolt of inspiration for this story and wanted to get it out there. I hope you enjoy it, and as always please follow/fav/review - it's always appreciated!

songrecommendations: this woman's work - kate bush

* * *

of all the things I should've said, that I never said,

all the things we should've done, though we never did,

all the things I should've given, but I didn't,

oh darling...

make it go,

make it go away

...

They had done it, they had actually done it … she still couldn't quite believe it. They had achieved the utter impossible, had managed something even the most mysterious of warlocks had told them was not possible. It had taken sacrifice, worrying, sleepless nights, and yet it had all been worth it. They were here, they had done it, they had achieved what they had been so desperate for.

A chance to change the past.

Because this wasn't just about running from the pain of the future, the scattering of the pack and the hardships that had come to them, but this was about ensuring that future, the future of pain and suffering, never came to be. They had known if they went back it would be hard, as two children trying to influence things, but it had been worth a shot, to change the terrible future they had already lived. That was why they had come back, to forge a better future going forward.

And they already had a way to do that, the knowledge the future had given them would be invaluable here. Sure, they might not be able to fix everything, but Sansa was sure there were things they could fix, things they could prevent, and they could change the future. One little ripple could change the entire path they were currently set to follow, she was sure of it, and that was enough to quell her anxieties (for the moment), and have her smiling as she got ready for the day.

She hurried, washing, and dressing, and putting on a gown of hers, one in grey that was stuffed at the back of her wardrobe. She grimaced at that, remembering how foolish she had been as a child, so desperate to swear off the North, to turn her back on her heritage and ancestry. But not this time, this time she would remember where she came from, she would remember what she was; she was a Stark, of the North, and she vowed to never forget such a thing. She would not be the idiot girl she had been, desperate to acknowledge her Tully side first, and desperate to go South. She knew one thing would change at least; she was not stepping a foot below the neck in this reality. She was of the North, this was where she belonged, she knew that now, and would carry it with her always.

Pulling on the dress, she left her hair in the maiden style of the North, uncaring if her Mother disapproved. Oh, her Mother, as much as she missed her, she knew she could never look upon Catelyn Stark with the rosy eyed tint she once had. Her relationship with Jon changed that.

With a rueful sigh, she slipped on some shoes, and made her way to the door. First she stopped to grab a cloak from the peg on her wall, but as she looked across at it, she smiled to herself as she saw what Jon had left; likely without even realising it, a habit he had carried with him.

He had left behind his cloak, the ruffled grey number darker than her own, he had left it behind, likely a habit. She had worn his cloak more than her own when they had been older, and she grinned to herself before picking it up and swinging it around her shoulders. She knew it was doing the opposite of what he had told her; acting strangely, and yet she couldn't help herself. This way, even if she couldn't act like she wished with Jon, at least she had a part of him with her. It smelled like him, like rosewood and the minty soap he used, and she rubbed her cheek against the fur as she tied it around her neck. It was too big for her, and yet she didn't care, it was like carrying around a part of him with her, and she was sure it would make things easier.

So, with a small sigh she slipped out of her room, Lady at her heels, and made her way to the dining room, a small smile on her face. They were here, they had done it. For now she was ignoring the fact things would get much, much harder from here, and instead she was going to allow herself just one, just one day to bask in the fact they had been successful, one day to see her family back together, whole, everyone alive. Just one day was all she needed.

Just one day.

* * *

As soon as he left her room Jon was smiling to himself. They had done it! They had actually done it! He was grinning from ear to ear as he ambled back to his room, Ghost appearing from a nearby corridor and trotting along to his side. It was weird seeing his companion so small again, and yet Jon was sure he would get used to it. After all, it was hardly the strangest thing he'd need to get used to; it was just one of many new adjustments he'd need to make.

Thankfully, they hadn't come into this blind. He and Sansa had discussed extensively what would happen if they achieved the impossible. They had made endless plans, had talked about how to act, how to behave, and how to keep their little secret just that; a secret. They both felt prepared.

But in truth, neither could quite believe what had happened.

It was one thing talking about it, making endless plans and extensively mapping out how they could most effectively make change, but it was another to be confronted with it, to wake up in the body of the boy he'd grown out of, to be back at just 16 years old, it was something else. Honestly, part of him wondered if this were all a dream, and he'd wake up soon, in his bed, a man once again, Sansa sleeping soundly on his chest, back to the normal.

But no, this was it, they were here, they had done it, they had achieved the impossible! The sacrifices didn't matter, not to him and he knew they didn't matter to her. They had done it, that was all that mattered, and that thought stayed with him as he stepped back into his room, and went about straightening himself out.

Sure, it would be hard, he remembered this time with a grimace and not-so happy memories. His room was the first sign of it; tucked away by the armoury, away from his siblings thanks to Lady Catelyn's tender parenting styles. He knew he was back in for a life of being shunned, confronted, and treated like dirt on a shoe thanks to Sansa's Mother, and yet he also knew it wouldn't be for long. They had a plan to counter that as well, and even if that didn't work … well, he would deal with it, it was well worth it for what they had the opportunity to do, what they were going to do.

They had discussed that more than anything; was it worth it? Over and over that had been a point of discussion, and each had agreed; yes, it would be worth it. It meant change, it meant real change, giving up the lives they had built and come to love, but such things were a necessary sacrifice, a sacrifice to make things better, not just for themselves or their family, but for the world.

A necessary sacrifice, they had acknowledged and accepted that as part of this journey.

He nodded to himself as he straightened up, put some shoes on (he had been in a hurry to check on Sansa, he had shoved on breeches, a tunic and his cloak and nothing else), and straightened out his clothes. He frowned at his reflection, at the stubble that now replaced a beard, at the strands of hair that were shorter and now curlier, at his height and lack of build. Still, that was nothing, he would become the man he was once more, he knew that, it would just take work, work he would happily undertake for everything else they had gained.

Once ready he tugged on his weapons belt (he knew it was strange, carrying around weapons in his own home, and yet a habit he couldn't and wouldn't break), and then reached for his cloak. However, as he looked for it, he realised with a small chuckle; he had left it in Sansa's room, of course he had. In their future, it had been a habit of his, to leave behind his cloak for her, since she much preferred wearing his cloak to her own. Plus, Jon never felt the cold like others … a fact he had once simply accepted, but now had an answer for, and so it had been of non-consequence for her to always wear his cloak, and evidently those habits would be hard to break.

With a smile to himself, he simply made his way out of the door then, Ghost at his heels, on his way to the dining room. It was breakfast time … a family breakfast, he looked forward to seeing everyone; his Uncle alive and well, Robb young and living as well, Bran, no longer burdened by the spirits and responsibilities of the gods, Arya, a young girl once more, not the girl without a smile and only a crushed spirit, and Rickon, baby Rickon, no longer a corpse on the battlefield, but alive with life ahead of him. He couldn't wait to see them, and so many others; even Theon, whole and well again, and the members of the Stark household, back where they belonged, instead of gracing shallow graves, their spirits gone from the world. They were all here now, where they belonged.

He realised with a grimace that he would be seeing people he wasn't so keen on, but he simply surged forward, he had anticipated this, prepared for this, and so with a nod to himself he made his way down the corridors, he had much to think on.

But today he would allow himself a little break; after months of planning, of sleepless nights and hard work, surely today he could have a respite? Reunite with his family, forget all the work they had to do, and simply revel in their success? Yes, he was sure that would be okay, just one day, one small day to simply be happy before the planning started anew. Just one day was all he needed.

Just one day.

* * *

She caught his eye as she entered the dining room from the southernmost door, and she felt a pool of heat quicken beneath her pale cheeks, and she smiled at him, the secret smile she reserved for only him. He too smiled at her (her smile, as she liked to think of it) as he entered from the northern door, and she tried to push away the simple thought;

It was going to be _extremely_ hard to act normal around Jon.

In this reality, he was her half-brother, she viewed him with contempt and distaste, that was what it had been between them. How idiotic it had been, to shun him in the way she had, and yet she had, and everyone would expect it to be as such. And yet Sansa knew she couldn't do that. They had planned she would simply be friendly, as he would be to her, that wouldn't cause too much suspicion, and yet she knew it would be hard, because yes in this reality she didn't care too much for him … but she wasn't that child anymore, and her view had much changed.

She loved Jon, more than she had thought it would be possible to ever love anyone. He was her husband, her soulmate, best friend, love of her life, and so many more things she couldn't begin to list. He was her everything, had become her everything, and to turn her back on that? To pretend that wasn't true? She knew that wouldn't be possible. She knew, that yes she could put on a face in public … she would need to find a way to be with him in private.

And so, she made that choice, she would grab him after breakfast to talk to him about it. It wasn't any shame to her that she wasn't strong enough to shun Jon completely, she wasn't ashamed that she needed him, and never would be. It would just mean an adjustment to her plans she was sure, nothing too serious. And so, she nodded herself, before weaving her way through the tables, to the head table at the top, where the rest of the family were already seated.

It was a struggle not to leap at them one by one. She saw them all, sat down, alive, healthy, happy, and she felt tears well at her eyes. She forced them down however, and glanced at Jon for support, but he seemed to be struggling too, and so she turned back, and simply gave in; hugs weren't suspicious after all.

First she went to Rickon, to bundle her into his arms and kiss the top of his head, to which he erupted in giggles. Next was Arya, whom she pulled into a hug, her younger sister squirmed and looked surprised, but her smile showed how delighted she was at such a simple gesture from her sister. Bran was next, and he too grinned as Sansa kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. Robb merely looked bemused as she bundled him into a hug, and her Father smiled in surprise and let out an 'oof' sound as she pulled him into a tight hug, before stroking her hair down her back. Finally, she went to her Mother, whom she too pulled into a hug, though her Mother looked confused she was smiling. Sure, as much as she had in truth come to resent her Mother for her treatment of Jon, she was still her Mother, she still loved her.

Once done she sat herself down with a grin – Jon was already sat down, having forgone the hugs, and instead was simply looking around taking everyone in, his face betraying very little – something he'd always been good at. He was smiling though at her, in exasperation likely, since she'd confused everyone around the table.

"Sansa dear, are you alright?" Her Mother asked gently, and Sansa merely nodded, sure, she hadn't acted as she should have, and yet she had promised herself one day, in her mind that included a proper reunion with her family … even if it created some confusion. Even Jon didn't seem worried, instead he was smiling fondly, but had happily broke into conversation with Robb – his way of reuniting. They couldn't begrudge each other.

After all this was one of the main reasons they'd risked everything to come back, to see their family back together again and to be part of it. This here was what they had been fighting for, searching for.

And god was it worth it.

"I'm quite alright Mother" She said, her voice gentle, "I just had a bad dream, and was glad to see everyone" Nods followed her words, and the confusion dissipated. There, that was an easy explanation, and she couldn't help but send a wink Jon's way at her ease of explaining her strange actions. He muffled laughter at her, and she suppressed giggles too. Sure, they were acting a little crazy, but their joy was obvious; they could barely contain it, and who would blame them if they knew?

Yet she had forgotten something, and she looked up as her Mother spoke again.

"Wait … Sansa, is that Jon's cloak?" A coldness had taken over her Mother's tone, and Sansa felt herself flinch in annoyance. She saw that same response reflected in Robb, and even in part by Arya. Ahh, so she wasn't alone in her distaste of her Mother's resentment for Jon … that was something she hadn't known before, and was valuable information knowing it now. How had she missed that before? She near rolled her eyes at herself then - of course, she had been a silly, self-absorbed little girl. But she was no more, hence her picking up on things she once would have missed.

"Yes Mother" She said simply, offering no further explanation, her annoyance having clouded her judgement, in this she wanted to be defiant.

"Sansa" Jon spoke next however, and gave her a look – that she needed to explain, that she shouldn't be mad on his behalf, that he didn't want this. He even held his hand out for the cloak, to indicate that they needed to act normal, and handing over the cloak and making up some excuse would be normal, and yet she shook her head. No.

After all, they had planned to change this aspect, for Sansa to appear more friendly towards Jon, now seemed like the perfect time to begin. Well at least Sansa thought so.

"Quiet bastard" Her Mother's tone was harsh, and she heard her Father admonish her, and yet that didn't stop Lady Catelyn, it hadn't in the past and would not now. "Sansa take it off!" Her Mother ordered, and yet Sansa barely heard those words, instead she glared across at her Mother, to which her Mother's expression turned from rage to shock, and she even leaned back in the chair, in surprise - Sansa had never looked at her Mother in such a way before.

"No" Sansa said, her tone as cold as her Mother's if not worse. The Great Hall had become silent then, everyone listening to this … Sansa was always the perfect Lady after all, no one expected her to talk back (particularly not when it came to the boy she called 'half-brother'), and it was evident this was the first time this had happened. Sansa knew this of course, knew how she should be acting, how she was expected to act. They had planned for this kind of scenario, and yet in her anger Sansa couldn't accept this, she couldn't act like this was okay. No, evidently the plans went out the window when actual emotions got involved.

"Leave him alone Mother" Sansa said coldly, before snuggling the cloak further round her shoulders, "Jon is a member of this family, a Stark in all but name … " She wanted to continue, and yet she was cut off as Jon came up behind her and practically yanked her out of her seat, yanked her to her feet, and pulled her up. He looked worried as she turned her gaze to him, yet not angry, in a way he even looked touched, and yet she could see in his eyes, he mostly looked fearful, and she felt worry claw at her own heart at his expression.

She had let her emotions get the best of her, had allowed them to run over, and she was acting completely out of character. This was the exact kind of situation they'd wished to avoid, the kind of situation that didn't work out well for anyone. She'd let her emotions run away from her so completely, she'd cast the gaze of suspicion across them both. She even missed the look her Father gave them, as he noticed Jon's hand linger on her arm, and the look of pure adoration and trust in Sansa's eyes as she looked up at Jon. She missed such a look, and so jumped as her Father spoke, interrupting everything with his authoritarian words.

"Stop this now" He said, his voice was quiet, calm even and yet it was clear he was angry. "Jon, Sansa, my solar now" He said simply, in a tone that was not to be questioned before he stormed out of the dining room, not waiting, evidently expecting Sansa and Jon to follow.

This was bad, Sansa knew that, this was bad. They could not be suspicious, in doing so that would mean they would be questioned, Jon could be in trouble (since her Mother would evidently cast the blame on him), and the consequences could be anything.

Sansa knew she had messed up, she knew that as she looked up at Jon and her own look of worry was reflected back in him. Still she nodded, as he did, the two silently communicating with one another as they often did ... or had. And so, they both turned away from the table and hurried to follow their Father, leaving behind a stunned dining room in their wake.

Their gaze was the words they spoke as they quickly caught up with their Father. This was bad, this was something they had actively wished to avoid, and yet planning didn't detail the actual situation, and how Sansa who would have once stood by, could not stand and watch her Mother speak to the man she loved in such a fashion. They hadn't been truly prepared, they hadn't been prepared for emotions, for anger, resentment and fury to factor in it. They had messed up, they hadn't thought their plans fully through, and in doing so they'd bought attention to themselves, to the fact things were different, and already, on the first day back, just a few hours in, they were in trouble.

Soon they reached the solar, and the door was left open, and yet they had a moment as their Father moved inside. They had a moment, and Sansa turned to Jon, as he grabbed her by the arms and looked down at her. They had a moment, and he spoke quickly, "Just go with whatever I say" He said simply and she nodded before he pulled her inside, careful to let go of her as they crossed the threshold to Eddard Stark's solar, into the first test of their ability to make a change and a difference, since they had returned to this past.

She trusted Jon, trusted him to ensure they were safe, to make this cloud of suspicion go away before any real consequences would be wrought. She trusted him completely, and so she followed him inside, ready to follow his lead. She would always follow his lead.

* * *

so, thoughts? I hope you enjoyed! now there isn't a ton of plot progression in this chapter (thats for the next chapter, damn is stuff gunna go off), but it sets the tone for the story. it sets a tone that no matter how much planning jon and sansa did, at the end of the day they can't plan everything, they can't really plan what to do, stuff is going to get in the way. it sets the tone that they are going to mess up, mainly when coming to one another's aid (for example can you imagine jon's reaction to when young joffers starts eyeing sansa up?), and it sets how this story will be going forward.

anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and if you did please leave a review to let me know what you thought - they're like crack to me! also follow/fav to keep up with it, and I'll hopefully have an update for you asap!

also readers of my other got fics; edits are almost finished on a wolf among thorns and then the new (already written) chapter will be posted, and all fics should have updates soon.

as always thanks for tuning in, see you soon!


	4. four

**authorsnote** : she's back in action! apologies for being awol, but I have a LEGIT excuse this time. My darling macbook broke, and I had to wait to buy a new computer, a PC which I'm still getting used to. add to the fact I'm back studying, still working, and having some kind of social life, it has been a busy few months, but I'm back! I've missed writing and am committed to getting all my stories updated. unfortunately with my laptop breaking I lost all my writing, and had to start from scratch. hair was pulled, screaming was heard, and the dear boyf had to give me a talking to, about how 'no one gets this upset over loosing 200 words' humph. anyways, here's the new chapter! a bit shorter than you're used to but I wanted to get it up - I hope you enjoy!

song recommendations: shallow - a star is born, bradley cooper/lady gaga (highly, highly recommend this movie too btw)

* * *

i'm off the deep end,

watch as I dive in,

i'll never meet the ground,

crash through the surface, where they can't hurt us,

we're far from the shallow now

...

Sansa knew they were in trouble, _deep_ trouble.

How were they supposed to explain their actions? How were they supposed to convince Eddard Stark - a man who prided his honour and could cut through their lies like a knife through butter that nothing had changed? Sansa trusted Jon, she trusted him to ensure their safety, to ensure that they weren't confined to a tower each for seeming crazy, or questioned about their sanity. In truth Sansa trusted Jon completely, and yet she wasn't sure how even he - with his intelligence and the fact he understood setting aside one's personal honour to save one's skin was essential - would get them out of this.

After all what could they say? Sansa realised they had not prepared for this, they had assumed they'd be able to fool their family, that they'd be able to hide under the scope of the Stark family view - evidently they had been wrong. They had not prepared for the idea they would get caught; they had been so confident, perhaps too confident? It seemed so as they moved into the Stark patriarch's solar.

Her stomach was churning, and she knew her hands were shaking. It dawned on her she was still wearing Jon's cloak; that didn't make things look any better, and yet she knew it was pointless to remove it as they each took a seat in front of her Father's desk, as he occupied the seat behind the table.

It was strange; seeing this again, being reduced to just viewers of the solar, not allowed to enter unaccompanied, when back in their world this had been Jon's solar (well a version of it), and she had often sat in that chair as well. It was odd, not to be in the position of power in Winterfell now. On her way to the hall she'd walked past one of the servants, and it had been odd to Sansa that they no longer answered to her (though she'd always been kind to the servants of the household). It was a dynamic change, a shift in how they'd live day to day and it was strange

And with those thoughts swirling around her mind Sansa realised; they had not prepared for this well enough, for coming back. Yes they'd thought out the basics, been sure of themselves (too sure) in certain aspects, but they hadn't really thought about how it would feel.

Sansa hadn't considered how it would be to be treated like a child again, to no longer be a voice of power and authority in Winterfell. She hadn't considered how angry she would get at her Mother in her treatment of Jon … hence their current position. Something she forced herself to be dragged back to, to ignore the thoughts running through her head as she looked across at her Father, as he began to speak.

"Sansa, Jon" He spoke, his voice was calm, deep, and it did give Sansa a sense of calmness, and made her feel more at ease; her Father had always had that, and Sansa knew Jon had inherited that Stark trait; the ability to make people feel at ease just by talking to them. There was a firmness there, and yet it was gentle … well usually, she could hear an edge to it now, an edge she knew was there because of the events in the main hall.

"Do you want to tell me what happened in the hall?" Again she heard the same tone to his voice; but it wasn't enough to make Sansa stop worrying; how in the hell were they to get out of this? "I'm pleased you seem to be, being kinder to your brother Sansa, but defying your Mother like that? Speaking like that? And Jon? I've never seen you act so … close with your sister, I'd like you to tell me why these sudden changes have come about, and Sansa why you spoke to your Mother in such a way"

Sansa opened her mouth to speak, and yet before she could utter a word she felt a hand on her knee; obscured from her Father's view, Jon was evidently telling her to keep quiet - something she resented, but she gave the smallest nod in response, he had promised he would handle it after all, and if he felt he had come up with an adequate excuse then she was happy to leave him to take the lead, especially considering nothing had come to mind for her.

His hand on her knee did distract her a little, made her squirm; it was difficult, being back in the body of a child, when what felt like only days earlier she and Jon had been embracing as man and woman, had loved one another as adults. It was strange, having the mind of a grown woman, with womanly desires and thoughts, but trapped as a child … still Jon, was going through it too, and they would get through it together, just as they would this unfortunate situation.

That was the most important thing; that they had one another, and Sansa thanked whatever gods were listening for keeping both their memories intact. Sansa would not have been able to do this on her own.

"U...Father" She heard Jon's little slip up and winced. Of course this was strange for him; to see her Father sat in the chair he usually occupied, to see Ice in the corner; his sword (having been reforged from the reunited pieces in the future), but no longer his to wield here. To have to refer to Eddard Stark as his Father, when both of them now knew the truth, knew that Jon was not Eddard Stark's son, but his Nephew; hence why she and Jon had been able to marry; as cousins.

"There is no cause for alarm, Sansa and I have just come to appreciate one another more over the past weeks, in fact I've been privately tutoring her on some subjects, her numbers and such" Sansa near rolled her eyes at that, but simply nodded; it was a dull excuse, but a believable one (as in their future Jon had tutored her on the hellish subject of numbers, as she had tutored him on basic court etiquette - lessons they'd both hated but got through together), though her Father seemed not ready to let this go yet, as he continued to push.

"It's not that I don't believe you Jon, it's just that … the way you two were looking at one another...it's _unusual_ " Her worry increased then; so her Father had caught the look they had shared? One that two 'siblings' who barely spoke should not be sharing. Goddamn it, they had to be more careful.

"It seems something has changed between the two of you" Her Father spoke again, in that rumbling voice she had missed so much, the harshness of the North reflected in his tone. She didn't want to argue with him, and she hadn't wanted to argue with her Mother, but she had just felt so swept up … it was much more difficult than she had anticipated to act like her 14 year old self; she had changed too much between then and her 20th nameday … more than she ever could have thought, it wasn't easy slipping back to how she had been, and in truth? She didn't want to.

"We're just closer Father, as siblings" Jon said then, but she saw him wince; for the way he felt about her, it was not as brother and sister, it never had been as brother and sister, even at this age … that was what had allowed them to grow so close, in another way, for they had never seen one another as siblings, and thus something else had been allowed to flourish.

"Yes Father" Sansa agreed, still not used to her voice, more girlish now, and yet she nodded. Her Father nodded too, but it seemed he was not done.

"It's just, as you are half siblings, you have to be careful not to seem _too_ close" Her Father said then, evidently choosing his words carefully, "The way you looked at one another, worryingly, it reminded me of how Lady Stark and I are look at one another"

Lady Stark … Sansa furrowed her brow at that; she had come from a time when she was Lady Stark, and Jon was King Stark … well, only because he had insisted to his Aunt that he would always carry the name Stark, and she had only relented because of their gentle agreement over Kingdoms and the truce they had come to when she had found out his parentage. It was strange, no longer being in charge, again her eyes fell to the chair; Jon's chair as she remembered it better … but not anymore.

"And at your age, on the threshold of adulthood, it's difficult" Her Father was speaking ineloquently, but Sansa understood his meaning, as did Jon, as he glanced at her with worry. She understood her Father sensed something was different between them, something he could not allow; under the pretext they were siblings, and Jon was a bastard … but of course that wasn't the case.

Unfortunately they could hardly call him out on that, and instead Sansa mulled over how perceptive her Father was, and how they could get around this… how could they convince their Father they were the same as he remembered them? Siblings, frosty with one another, not Cousins, now deeply in love and used to being in love, a love so close it shadowed all around it? When they had planned, this had been an after thought, an ease, but no … it was much harder than either had thought; you couldn't hide that kind of love, clearly.

"Sansa, soon you'll be betrothed, we've had several enquiries about your hand" She snapped out of her mullings then, her eyes going wide, and she felt the squeeze of Jon's hand on her knee, not hurting her but uncomfortable, and she realised as she glanced at him, he wasn't trying to catch her attention, he was just not happy about the change in this topic; at the idea of Sansa being anyone's but his.

But then Sansa knew; she would always be his, always.

"Harrion Karstark, Arthur Glenmore, Cley Cerywn, all options in the North, and then South, many eligible Heir's to Castle's, and then Prince Joffrey, you know how Robert wishes to unite our houses" Sansa flinched at the last, her nose wrinkling, though thankfully her Father hadn't noticed, as he plowed on. "Any closeness with your siblings that isn't simply platonic … it's not right, and it's dangerous"

Sansa hated the idea of a betrothal, of being near any of the men her Father had spoken of. She was Jon's, she knew that, it was buried deep in her heart, so deep she would never let go of it; she would never, ever be anyone else's …

"Father" Jon spoke then, as he could clearly see Sansa was on the border of saying something they'd both regret, and he wasn't wrong. Sansa knew they had changes to make before the subjects of Prince Joffrey could come up, Sansa knew she couldn't make it clear now just how little she ever wished to go South, let alone go near the bastard Prince, or how little she wished to ever be anyone else's wife. In her mind she was already a woman wed, and her husband was sat next to her, holding onto her knee, evidently keeping his own frustrations and feeling's at bay.

This they'd spoken about; about how in this world Sansa had been bugging her parents for weeks about going South, had sworn off the Old Gods for the Seven, had been desperate to meet the Prince and be Queen one day - they had laughed at the latter, how desperate she had been to become Queen … and in there world she had been, just not in the way either could have predicted.

"I will say no more" Her Father spoke, stopping Jon in his tracks, "But I don't expect to see the two of you ... interacting in this way again, now Sansa off to your lessons, Jon, you too" And with that he dismissed them; clearly he had more to think over, as did they; they had a lot of thinking to do, a lot indeed.

And so they left the solar, only Sansa glanced back as their Father turned away from them to look at the portrait on the wall, a portrait Sansa couldn't remember; clearly it had been destroyed in their world and she'd never really looked at it in their world. It was a portrait of the Stark family; but not there's, but of Father, his Father Rickard, hand on the shoulder of who had to be Brandon, Benjen next to his side … and then Lyanna, smiling brightly in between her brothers...the Stark's that had come before them … her Father, her Grandfather, and Jon's Mother, all together, it was the last glance she got before the door swung shut behind them, and Jon took her hand, pulling her down the corridor to her room, quickly so they wouldn't be seen, his cloak billowing down her back as she followed him.

They had a lot to discuss.

* * *

Once they reached her room, Jon hurriedly shut the door behind them, bolted the door, and pushed a chair against it for good measure. He hurried around to pull a curtain across the lone window, and then turned to her - to Sansa, his Sansa.

As she was his, she would always be his. He'd barely kept it together in his Uncle's solar when he had spoken of offer's to Sansa's hand, and the possibility of her betrothal. Only years of experience of keeping calm and a cool facade allowed him to keep his emotions in check when that subject had come up. It had been difficult, and he knew he had squeezed her knee a bit too tightly, but it was that or lash out and reveal their true position, and his feelings for whom he was supposed to view as his sister.

But she wasn't his sister; never had been, and they had never acted as such. When she had found him at the Wall, and then back in Winterfell … the sibling bond had never been there, and something else had been allowed to grow, to flourish, something deeper than that of siblings, something better, and from there it had spiralled.

He could still remember the first time she had fallen into his arms; it had been an unremarkable day, like any other, and yet when she had come to his room that night; the Lord's chambers (as she insisted he should have), he had been prepared for their usual routine, the usual back and forth chat, and then settling into bed, side by side (nevermind the whispers), to simply hold hands as they drifted to sleep - for neither could sleep without nightmares without one another close, it was easier, comfortable, but that night had differed in that.

* * *

Flashback

* * *

 _"I love you Jon" Her voice was soft, but with the edge that had crept in ever since they had been reunited, an edge that spoke of her hardship - part of him wished he could take it away, the other understood it, and simply promised himself he'd never let her voice grow any colder._

 _"As I love you" And then he had leaned forward to kiss her forehead, as he always did, but in the dark, his lips instead had brushed her nose, she giggled in response, and he too laughed, before realising how close they were, how her hand had come to rest in his hair, how his hand was on her cheek, his thumb smoothing back and forth._

 _"Jon…" But before she could say another word, he had leaned down, to brush his lips against hers, like the lightest flutter of a butterflies wing, before pulling back, unsure, worried, uncertain … until she had pushed forward, her lips harder against his - soft, but crushing against his, and from there everything had changed._

 _Afterward, when they had been lying in a tangle of sheets, her cheeks flushed with red, the bloodstains on the sheets ignored, his chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat over their both their bodies, she had spoken, grinning from ear to ear in a way of such abandon he hadn't seen in a while, "I wondered when you'd finally kiss me"_

 _He laughed in response, and rolled back on top of her, and pulled her lips to his once again._

* * *

Present

* * *

His mind back in the present, he rushed forward, to Sansa - his Sansa then, and pulled her into his arms, where she willingly went, wrapping her arms around him, clutching him close. It had been a crazy morning, a lot on both their backs, and they needed this moment, this moment to just be with one another, to let the tension go. She needed to hold him, to know he was here with her, and he needed to hold her, to know she was his.

This was hard for both of them, he knew that, and yet he felt in terms of loosing their loved one, Jon was in more danger. His Uncle still thought he was on the path to take the black (though Jon knew that was no longer an option; how could he help make change if he was stuck at the wall?), and as a bastard he was in no danger of being married off. But Sansa? That was an imminent danger, one they had made some plans to stop, and yet it still made him shake with fear, the idea someone else would try to take her, try to make her, his. When in Jon's mind she was his, his wife, his love - in fact as he felt her hand against his hair, the lack of a wedding rijng there annoyed him.

He knew he was being possessive, in a way he had only been flashes of before, but his Uncle's words had shaken him; the idea that Sansa one day wouldn't be his. She had worn the ring to match his, had said the words he had in the Godswood, they had pledged themselves to one another forever, and he intended to see that through.

"You're mine" He said into her fire-red hair, the hair he loved so much, the hair that had the wildlings and eventually the Northmen call her 'kissed by fire', "Mine, and I'm not giving you away" He said simply. She didn't reply with words, but a nod into his chest, before bringing her lips to his, a kiss, that they both needed, and melted into, a sigh of relief leaving his lips, and a pleased sigh leaving hers as they kissed, and then broke free, for him to rest his forehead against hers. He felt better for that, more relaxed, as he knew Sansa felt the same way as him; neither would be parted from the other.

"I'm yours" She said simply, and he nodded against her, where they stayed for too long really, and yet neither could pull away.

* * *

so thoughts?

I know this chapter isn't heavy on plot progression but I felt it was really important to outline the jon/sansa relationship. Now, as I have said before, this story is firmly jonsa, as you can see, and I felt that needed to be shown here, how they see one another, and the massive problems that will (and already has caused!), cause going forward. sansa/jon are just realising how naive they were going into this, and we'll see that going forward as well!

anyways I do hope you enjoyed, and if you did please please review/sub to this fic! I have other asoiaf fics you can check out as well, all of which will be updated soon! (the first likely being journey).

anyways, speak soon!


	5. five

authorsnote: heres the next chapter! please blame the holidays for my lack of updates! christmas, exams and new years took up all of my time, but here is the next chapter of turning back! I got quite a few questions about the last chapter, and certain ... plot points, I didn't respond because hopefully they're explained here. regardless, please enjoy!

song recommendations: house stark theme (got), the river - ed sheeran

* * *

well little one, I don't want to admit to something,

if all it's gonna cause is pain,

truth in my lies right now are falling like the rain,

so let the river run

...

Sansa knew after a few minutes that soon their absences from their lessons would be noted, and she reluctantly pulled away from Jon. She hated not being in his arms, hated not feeling as safe as she always did when he held her, and yet she knew they had to go about their days, and convince everyone what they had seen at breakfast was nothing out of the ordinary.

And so she pulled away from him, a small pout on her features as he did so; indicating she was doing so because she had to, not because she wished to be away from him. Thankfully Jon laughed in kind, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before releasing her. They both had days to be getting on with; today was about settling in, finding their feet in this new world, and then tomorrow they could begin to make plans and changes.

For a moment Sansa's mind was miles away as she thought over the meeting in her Father's solar, just minutes earlier. They had both agreed when embarking on this plan, that if it succeeded they wouldn't tell anyone in this time about the future, or where they had come from and how they'd done so. For a moment she doubted whether they had been right; should they have told her Father what they knew? Tried to get him to help? In the future she and Jon were powerful, rulers of the North with influence and power, but now? Now they were just children. For a moment she felt so small, so insignificant - how on earth were they going to change things?

"Sansa?" Jon's voice broke her out of her worryings and she smiled at him; in an attempt to reassure him, but Jon knew her better than that, and he shot her look that meant she hadn't fooled him. With a small sigh, she relayed her worries to him.

"Do you think we should have told my Father?" She asked, her voice dropping to a whisper as she stepped closer to Jon, to ensure if anyone walked past or appeared they would not be overheard, "Enlisted his help?"

Jon raised an eyebrow in surprise at her line of thought, but quickly recovered his expression before shaking his head. "Even in the rare event he would have believed us … it would complicate things greatly Sansa, set off events we're not ready for yet. Plus, I doubt he would have believed us, probably thought us insane, lackwit or ill; we couldn't risk that"

"I know" Sansa said with a nod; after all they had discussed this at length back in their timeline, going back and forth over whether they should tell anyone, "I just feel like it's going to be so hard Jon" She bit down on her lip then, to pause before continuing, "We're not King and Queen here"

With that Jon pulled her into another hug, which she wanted to resist; she was far too reliant on his comfort and that would be far too suspicious here. And yet she couldn't help but melt into his embrace; it had been a hard morning, and she knew things were not going to get any easier.

"No, but we can still make change, we made plans, don't doubt us, we can do this, we can save everyone" Jon replied into her hair, and she nodded; he was right. She was just scared, she wasn't afraid to admit that, she felt it was right to be scared, they had so much to do and very little time to do so, but they had made plans, smart plans, and if they pulled them off then things would be better for the Stark family. "We can do this Sansa" Jon confirmed, and again she nodded before pulling away from him.

"Okay" Sansa said then, stepping back once more, her fears a little alleviated; they had big changes to make yes, but she was sure they could do it … together.

"Now come on" Jon said with a small smile, "We'll just settle in today aye? And we'll worry about the future tomorrow" With that Sansa did feel reassured; they had to just take it one day at a time, and today was about reuniting with their family, today was about settling into this new reality and coming to terms with it all. That she could do.

"Alright" Sansa said, a small smile appearing on her own features then, "I best be going then" She said, though she didn't move for a moment, instead she just adjusted Jon's cloak around her shoulders; she didn't care what her Mother said, she wasn't removing it. This would be her comfort throughout the day when Jon was not with her. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course" Jon said with a grin, leaning in quickly for a chaste kiss, but unwilling to risk anymore in case anyone was watching.

"I love you" Sansa said, aware her voice was a little quiet … for she was nervous, how could she not be?

"As I do you" Jon said in response, "Now it's time for us to go, I'll see you at lunch, and dinner, and then I'll come to your room tonight, alright?" At that she felt reassured and nodded, and with a deep breath, she found the strength to move past her beloved, and make her way out of her bedroom and through the corridors. If she remembered correctly she was due with Septa Mordane that morning; the lessons would be useless to her now, but she could make some positive changes during the lessons, and with that thought (and one last look at her room, from which Jon emerged, shot her a smile and then hurried in the opposite direction), she made her way forward; she could do this, she could.

But as she hurried down the corridor, the cloak around her shoulders a great comfort to her, she failed to notice the shadowy figure stood in the small alcove by her room door … her Father, who had heard every word between the supposed siblings and who's look of horror was unseen to her.

* * *

In truth, Jon wished he didn't have to go along to lessons, his Uncle had stood his ground against Lady Catelyn in, insisting Jon be allowed to attend Robb's lesson, and he had been grateful for such a thing, but now in truth he wished he just had the free time. The only benefit to attending would be to see Rob, he had no need to learn the names of the Houses of the North now, or to understand the political stance of the Kingdoms, or the governance of the Nights Watch … he knew plenty on all of those subjects now through first hand experience. It would have felt like a waste of time, but as he arrived at the door to Maester Luwin's teaching room, he did relish the chance to spend some time with Robb, thus he felt the lessons would be worth it on that basis alone.

Though, as he entered the room, a small scowl crossed his features. He had forgot that Theon attended these lessons, and he had no wish to share a table with the man. Sure, in the future he had owed the Greyjoy thanks … in a way for saving his future wife, but he still greatly disliked the squid, especially considering his memories of how Theon had been at this time, incredibly arrogant and insufferable. Once Jon had merely distanced himself, and refused to hold his ground, but now? Now Jon, though looking like a boy, was a man grown, he'd take no disrespect here.

"Ahh Jon, please have a seat" Maester Luwin said with a nod, to which Jon took a seat to Robb's right, Theon sat on his cousins left. Jon shot the Maester an appreciative smile; he had always liked Maester Luwin, the Maester they'd had at Winterfell under his and Sansa's rule had been good, smart and loyal, but never as learned or kind as the old Maester here.

"Everything okay brother?" Robb asked in a hushed voice as Maester Luwin began to give an overview of the political alliances in the North (something Jon already knew far too much about, after all he hadn't appeased the Northern Lords in the future without knowing how to sure up their loyalties and keep them happy, without this knowledge). Jon found himself flinching a little at Robb's words; brother … it saddened him to know now they weren't brothers, though Jon still considered him one, and hoped if Robb ever learnt the truth about his parentage he would too.

"Fine" Jon said in response, though he did smile as he looked at Robb. God how he had missed him, the King in the North to come before him; it was good to see him here again, smiling, and more importantly alive. "I'll talk to you about it all later"

"Ehem" Maester Luwin spoke, interrupting the boys whispered conversation with a raised eyebrow, "Boys, try to follow along, Jon, tell me the current Head of House Glover, and the minor Houses sworn to him, if you'd been listening you'd know" Maester Luwin said with a hard glance.

"Current head is Lord Galbert Glover, minor Houses sworn are Houses Woods, Branch and Bole, Maester" Jon replied with a nod; when he had taken over as King in the North, Sansa had drilled this information into him quickly, and he had found himself adapt at knowing House loyalties and how to use them to cement Stark rule in the North once more.

"Very good Jon" Maester Luwin said in slight surprise, and Jon saw Robb's look of surprise mirror the Maesters. Theon looked irritated and shot him a glare, to which Jon readily held his gaze for a change, to which Theon dropped his in surprise. Jon had meant what he'd thought; he would no longer be disrespected.

Though he did acknowledge he had to be careful here, very careful, he couldn't give away too much about how he had changed, his knowledge or his skills. Still … he knew in the training yard he wouldn't be able to resist showing off, especially if he was faced against Theon in a sparring match. In the future he may have forgiven the Greyjoy boy, but he felt the young squid could use some sense knocked into him now, rather than waiting for the cut of a Bolton's knife to do so.

"Nice one Jon" Robb muttered under his breath, and Jon couldn't help but smile at his cousin; he really had missed him, he had missed him as a friend, a voice of reason, and as a brother, Jon still considered him one, and always would.

"I missed you, you know" Jon couldn't help but say, as Robb turned to him with a smile and a roll of his eyes, though he did look pleased.

"You saw me yesterday you softie" He replied to which Jon couldn't help but laugh, setting Robb off too, which got them both a glare from Maester Luwin. At that they both settled down, though still smiling, and Jon couldn't help but feel a little bit happier; it did feel good to be back, despite the problems, and the worries (and the fact he knew Sansa would micromanage everything to death until he'd be forced to kiss her to stop her worrying), it was all worth it, that was all he had to keep telling himself when things got hard; it was all worth it.

* * *

Sansa was worrying of course as she hurried down the Winterfell corridors, and made her way to Septa Mordane's room she reserved for the girls she taught. She gave a hurried apology as she came in, and moved to sit not in her usual seat, but instead next to her little sister. That was one relationship Sansa was determined to do better at, and now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so.

And so for the moment she tried to put her worries and anxieties out of her mind, to forget about them and focus on the now. One look at Arya did help, as she watched her little sister struggle with her stitches. This was what they'd come back for; family, and she didn't want to miss out on being back with them by being constantly anxious.

Picking up her sewing supplies, Sansa ignored Jenny trying to call her over, and instead quickly began to thread; the sooner she got it finished, the sooner it would be done for. She remembered when sewing, dancing, playing the lute had all been so important to her, but now? Now she saw them as useless. What use was sewing, unless it was sewing leather onto armour? What use was dancing when people needed feeding? In truth Sansa had knew these lessons would feel pointless, and had no interest them, as she quickly and efficiently (rather than prettily as she once would have done) did her needlework, stitching the House sigil onto her plain background with ease. The only real time in the future Sansa had tried to keep her sewing 'pretty' had been when stitching Jon's clothes, and even then it had fallen by the wayside when more important things had made themselves known.

"Oh Arya" She heard Septa Mordane by her right then and stiffened slightly, "Awful work young child, why can't you get this right?" The Septa crowed and Sansa found herself rolling her eyes in response.

"She will Septa" Sansa replied, her tone making it evidently clear how annoyed she was at the woman's words, "Give her time" She said simply, she missed the look of shock on Arya's faces, and the looks of surprise on every girls in the rooms.

"Lady Sansa, your own needlework today is rougher than usual, but still a sight better than your sisters! Please do not intercede when I am trying to teach" Septa Mordane said, she too surprised but more annoyed at Sansa's interruption.

"I will intercede if I think you're being unfair Septa" Sansa shot back, forgetting for a moment that she was meant to be a girly 14 year old girl, not a strong and powerful voice of a leader, this had been something she had promised not to do, and yet she had also promised herself she'd be a better big sister; for a moment the latter took priority over the former, "Arya will get it in her own time and is vastly more skilled than all of us in many other pursuits" She said with a nod then and a glower towards the Septa.

"Sansa, what are you doing!" Jenny said across the room, her face incredulous to what Sansa was saying, "No need to stick up for Old Arya Horseface"

Sansa felt her temper flare then, both her temper rare up and her guilt flood her. She had used that nickname against her own little sister, and she felt awful for it in hindsight. Well no more, that would change. She had promised herself she would do better, and do better she would as she rose to her feet, and sent a chilling glare towards Jenny Poole.

"Don't you dare speak of my sister like that again Jenny" Sansa said coldly, as she glanced down at Arya, who frankly still looked in shock at her sister's change of attitude, "How dare you presume to insult her, she is a member of the ruling House of the North, you're a stewards daughter" There was some of the Sansa some of them remembered, the snob obsessed with status, "If I hear you insulting her again I will see it as an insult to House Stark, and then my Father will be forced to get involved" She said "Understood?"

At that Jenny and the rest of the girls nodded, Septa Mordane seemed shocked and went to hurry out of the room, mumbling about finding Lady Catelyn, but Sansa sat herself back down and turned to her little sister who still looked surprised.

"If any of them speak to you in such a way again, come straight to me, okay?" Sansa said, her voice far more gentle as she spoke to Arya, and got a good look at her for the first time. Here was her innocent little sister, obsessed with sword fighting and acting like a little boy. Gone was the cold assassin with her long, long list. It was good to see her as a child, and both Sansa and Jon had promised to protect that childhood with everything they had.

"Thanks Sansa" Arya replied with a small smile, and Sansa nodded, reaching up to stroke her hand over her little sisters hair before glancing at her needlework.

"Your stitching really is dreadful Arya" She said with a small smile, a little laugh leaving her lips which Arya caught onto. Once they stopped Sansa spoke again, "Why don't you try to stitch our sigil instead of some silly flowers?" She asked with an encouraging nod and smile, "Hmm? Our sigil is something to be proud of, put work into it, and really try and then you can be proud of stitching our great House imagine, okay?"

"Okay" Arya said in response; Sansa knew her little sister would never love stitching but as she grabbed new supplies and began to work, she seemed to be trying hard. Her hands were steady, her expression determined and Sansa smiled as she went back to her own work.

This is why they'd come back; to help their family, to keep the Starks together and happy. Any way counted and Sansa felt good about helping Arya, she also felt a little better, and hoped she could foster a closeness between them, she certainly would try, and as Arya saw her watching and grinned at her, Sansa smiled back with happiness; yes, she wanted to be close to Arya this time around. After all, they had come back for one main reason; family.

* * *

The day moved slowly from there on with little incident. Jon and Robb happily chatted away over lunch, and Sansa was happy to leave them be - shooting her beloved a smile before settling in next to Rickon and taking over his feeding, which her Mother accepted gratefully. She didn't complain as Rickon splatted mashed potatoes over the table, staining her dress, only laughed and then tickled him before getting his carrots down him, and then eating her own lunch quickly before moving onto lemon cakes; after all they were still her favourite and had been hard to come by in the future.

Lessons in the afternoon dragged on equally, but thankfully she sat was able to sit in between Bran and Arya as Maester Luwin talked them through the noble houses of the North and their importance. Sansa already well informed on the topic (obviously) was happy to help her siblings, and the smiles on their faces and the Maester's by the time they broke for dinner had her smiling too. A hard start to the day had been passed, and the rest of the day had been much better, not just for her, but for Jon too.

Jon had spent the afternoon sparring, and though it had been difficult to reel back his skills, and try to ignore instincts he had honed over years, he had found his physical body needed to catch up to allow him to pull off some of the moves he had learnt over the years. And so, bar the odd sparring session (in which yes he did beat both Theon and Robb with ease), Jon focused instead on the physical activities that would bring his strength and muscle back; weights, drills and push ups were his preferred activities as Master Rodrick oversaw sparring between Theon and Robb. He was determined to get his strength back, he would need it in the fights to come.

For both of them it had been an odd start to the day, but had gotten better as they went through. As dinner came they both sat apart again (though shot each other more than a few glances), Sansa sat with Arya and Bran, happily listening to their stories about their recent races against one another, and who was faster (both insisted they were, and Sansa couldn't help but laugh at their outraged faces as she refused to pick a side), Jon sat with Robb, soaking up all the lost time with his pseudo-brother, the two happily chatting away about sparring techniques, which in truth Jon didn't need to learn about, but was just happy to soak up the time with Robb.

Neither of them noticed, through lunch or dinner that Lord Stark was noticeably quiet, and brushed off his wife's concerns, insisted he was thinking over economic reports from the North. Neither of them even thought to suspect something as he watched them shoot one another glances and smiles, and neither of them thought anything of walking out together, walking closer than usual (though Arya certainly noticed, and seemed happy as anything that her siblings were closer, and soaked up all the attention Jon gave her). Certainly neither of them suspected they were being watched as Jon snuck into Sansa's room that night.

* * *

Jon had walked through the corridors silently, leaving his weapons belt in his room, wearing minimal armour (which in truth felt wrong), as he hurried over to Sansa's bedroom. His tread was quiet (learned over the years), as he made his way to her bedroom, slipped inside and shut the door behind him without making a sound. Ghost had followed him but happily settled beside a sleeping Lady as he walked inside. It was later than he'd intended, but he'd stayed up later chatting to Robb in his cousins room, unable to tear himself away from being able to simply talk to his best friend again.

And so he was later than intended, but smiled as he found Sansa still awake, sat on her bed in her nightgown, brushing her hair. She grinned at him as he slipped inside, and then walked around to sit next to her on the bed. Though they weren't sitting for long as Sansa pulled him down to lie down next to her instead.

He arranged them into a comfortable position, he on his back an arm beneath his head, his outer armour shed to leave him in breeches and a simply undershirt, Sansa on her side with her head on his chest, in just a nightgown, her long hair tickling his neck as she cuddled into him. "I missed you" He said simply, breaking the silence to which he felt her smile against the exposed skin of his chest, and he smiled in response.

"I missed you too" She said simply, placing her chin on his chest so she could look at him with a grin, "But it was good to see everyone again, to spend time with them, you know?"

"Aye" Jon responded, his grin matching hers now as he looked back at the day in his mind. It had started so tense and yet they were both clearly delighted to be reunited with the rest of their family; it had been a good day.

"Still, I did want to see you all day, it feels weird since back during our time we'd spend most of the day attached at the hip" Sansa said with a little laugh to which he nodded; it was true, it was a little joke around Winterfell that the King was rarely seen without the Queen by his side.

"It does" Jon said, "But I'm happy to be with you now, with you in my arms, where you belong" He said simply, and he saw the blush pool across her cheeks, her pale skin lighting up pink, which clashed delightfully with her hair, which he always loved. He loved making her blush, seeing the pink spread across her cheeks and nose, seeing the secret little embarrassed smile she did when he was able to elicit such a reaction from her, it always made him smile in a way that otherwise remained hidden.

"God, Jon, I can't believe we did it" Sansa said with a grin, turning back to lie on her side once more, to pull him close to her, body to body, not an inch between them, which Jon welcomed as he pressed his lips to her hair.

"Me either" He said simply, for it was true; it was nigh on unbelievable, and yet they'd done it, they'd managed it, against all odds and known truths in their world, they had done it.

...

"Did _what_?" As soon as he heard the foreign voice he didn't even register who it was, instead he was up quickly, in front of Sansa who screamed in response to the stranger having entered her room. He was up, looking for a nearby weapon, anything he could use against the intruder, until he truly looked up at the figure in front of him, the candlelight casting a shadow over him as he looked down at them both, his expression one of both anger and confusion.

"Father" Sansa said, her eyes widening as she realised he had managed to slip inside without either of them noticing; they'd been too focused on one another. Jon couldn't believe he'd let his guard down so easily, so foolish, so stupid, and now they'd been caught red handed, how on earth did they explain this?!

"I heard you this morning" Eddard Stark spoke and he heard Sansa gasp, her hands go over her mouth as she turned her gaze to him, her expression frantic. Jon in contrast let out a deep sigh, and a shake of his head.

Eddard Stark was here in front of them, he had heard them this morning and presumably their conversation now. He had heard them talk about a future he didn't know about, had heard them talk to each other in the way they did, had heard their declarations of love. Good god, he'd heard them call themselves King and Queen.

Fuck.

They were fucked, well and truly fucked. Likely his Uncle now thought they were insane, crazed, and Jon had no idea how they talked themselves out of this. They'd barely talked themselves out of trouble this morning! Eddard Stark was a man who could easily see lies, and Jon turned to look at Sansa with an expression of worry, what did they do here? What was the move here? Jon, usually so able to work out situations and the best way to resolve them, now his face was just alight with worry, with surprise, and it was clear he had no idea what to do. Sansa, still had her hands clapped over her mouth and was looking at Jon desperately for an answer.

"So tell me, tell me what you did, tell me what you mean by 'your time', and tell me why you think you need to save us all" He said simply, less angry but clearly confused, and Jon let out a deep sigh then. How on earth did they explain all of this?

* * *

here we are! I hope you enjoyed it ... apologies again for the cliffhanger, but at nearly 5k words I felt it was time to cut it off. I do hope you liked. and to all the people asking why they didn't tell Eddard about their circumstances; welp, now they don't have a choice!

I will try to update as soon as possible, but do have other fics to do first and a PHD to nail which is taking up like all my time. still, I hope you stick with me - please fav/follow for updates and review if you enjoyed.

thanks, see you soon


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